


fire in the blood

by ornategrip



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-20
Updated: 2012-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-29 20:36:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ornategrip/pseuds/ornategrip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick, Monroe and Renard get hit by pheromones and have sex. Dubious consent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fire in the blood

**Author's Note:**

> For this prompt on the grimm kink meme: http://grimm-kink.dreamwidth.org/1735.html?thread=5831#cmt5831
> 
> So, for this I decided that Renard is some sort of fox creature, as his name implies! Canon will probably destroy that at some point but at least I got some porn out of it. I also fudged a bit on Ziegevolk powers. All for the sake of porn, people. All for the sake of porn. :)

Renard knew exactly what this was. So did the wolf, he could see the moment realization hit, widening the man’s eyes, panic clear in the whites of his eyes.

Only Nick was oblivious, coughing and waving a hand in his face, as if that could stop the dangerous plumes of pheromones from entering his lungs.

The burn was already hitting Renard, making his blood burn, his vision go red. He was a man who was always in control, who had an iron will, so he fought it back. The wolf on the other hand, Monroe, wasn’t it? The wolf was snarling and shaking and dear stupid Nick was going over to him, actually trying to put a hand on his arm.

And this, Nick, he thought darkly, is why we don’t bring civilians to crime scenes. He stalked over to where the other two men were, grabbed Nick none too gently and jerked him away. When Nick turned to him, his eyes were already blown, flush high on his cheeks. Renard had _control_ so he turned from that sight to the wolf.

“Find some lube. We’re going to need it.”

To his credit, Monroe didn’t dither, began rummaging through his pockets until he pulled out a small tube of hand lotion. At Renard’s quirk of his eyebrows, he said defensively,

“I don’t like my hands dry!”

Nick whimpered and both their heads swiveled to look at him. He was leaning against the wall, pants undone just enough for him to pull his cock out and he was stroking himself, panting open-mouthed.

It took him a moment to notice them and his eyes seemed to focus with difficulty.

“What’s happening?” he moaned, hand still moving between his legs, still pumping at his cock. With a bit off curse, Renard strode over to him, yanking at his own tie. Nick just stared up at him with bleary eyes, unresisting when Renard pulled him away from the wall and began to strip him.

“Female Ziegevolk are not like their male counterparts, Nick. They can make people feel lust for other people. Uncontrollable lust.”

Statistically, Ziegevolk were actually less violent than the human population; trust Nick to come across the only two homicidal goats in all of Oregon. And trust him to bring a damn wolf to the warehouse she was hiding in and damn Renard for going in after them.

At least he and Monroe could fight it off for a bit, being creatures with different metabolisms. Nick though, Nick was already far gone.

Frustration and that ever-pounding lust, made his iron control slip for just a moment.

“Fox?” the wolf gasped out behind him, breath already heaving.

“What else?” Renard asked snidely, still removing Nick’s clothes with a brutal efficiency. “I’d tell you to kneel but I think you’ll end up doing that anyway.”

The image that flashed through his mind, Monroe on his knees, mouth open and slobbering on his cock and he had to stop what he was doing. Had to breathe deeply, find his center, calm his blood as best he could. The wolf whined, the image apparently just as much a turn on for him as it was for Renard.

“Take your clothes off.” he ordered roughly, Nick completely naked and shivering in his arms. As Monroe stripped Renard batted Nick’s hands from erection, took over for him, stroking with a strong firm hand. It didn’t take long before Nick came, back arching, head resting on Renard’s shoulder.

He made sure to catch the come, keep it cupped in the palm of his hand. They would need more than just that little tube of lotion.

When he looked up, the wolf was spreading an old moving blanket on the floor; it wasn’t ideal but it was the best they could do. He and the wolf locked eyes and in silent communication they moved Nick to the blanket, put him on his hands and knees.

Renard finished stripping as Monroe soothed Nick, who trembled and whimpered with need on the blanket. His jacket and shirt joined his tie the floor and he kicked off his shoes and pants with barely a thought. The cool air of the warehouse chilled his overheated skin, made it prickle. It helped a little, reminded him that this wasn’t a simple sexual encounter. All their consent was dubious at best.

Renard wasted no time, because they didn’t have any to waste. He and Monroe could only fight the compulsion for so long before they were as far gone as Nick, before they’d be animals in rut. Any precautions had to be taken now, to make sure Nick didn’t get hurt.

Monroe handed him the bottle of lotion and he squirted some into his hand, mixing it with the come. He stroked the mixture between Nick’s ass cheeks, slid one finger in without hesitation, moving it in and out, gently but efficiently coating his insides. The pheromones were affecting him, tunneling his vision so all he saw was his finger, deep inside Nick. It took him by surprise when Nick’s hips shifted and he dragged his eyes away to look up.

Monroe had pulled Nick up, was kissing him softly, one hand tangled in his hair and it was so fond, so sweet that if Renard didn’t know better he’d think they were lovers. But Renard knew everything that happened in his city and he knew that Nick and his wolf had never crossed that line.

Until now.

He curled his finger into Nick, listened to him cry out. He pulled out to spit into his hand before going back, this time working two into Nick’s body.

“Use his mouth.” Renard told the wolf. Monroe’s control would shatter first he knew, and orgasm might delay it for a bit, keep it from building up inside him. Monroe did as told without protest, giving one last kiss to Nick before putting him back on his hands and knees.

Nick opened his mouth without prodding, swallowed Monroe down eagerly, making the other man snarl and groan and moan. The sight, the sound, the smell of it, it made Renard shake and he grabbed the lotion with clumsy hands. Three fingers now, and if this had been normal and if this had been more along the lines of the vague fantasies that plagued his work day, Renard would take more time, draw it out, have Nick writhing from his fingers alone.

This was anything but normal so Renard slicked his cock and pressed in.

The faster they got Nick stretched out, the slicker they got him early on, the less likely he’d come to harm later. So he moved in smoothly and Nick took him, back arching with it, muffled moans from his mouth stilled wrapped around Monroe’s dick. It felt good, better than anything Renard could have imagined and he didn’t try to delay his orgasm, let the pure pleasure build through him.

He kept his hips pumping in a steady rhythm, bringing one hand underneath to grasp Nick’s hard cock. He wrung the second orgasm of the night from the other man even as Monroe grabbed Nick’s head and flooded his mouth. He came to the sounds of Nick swallowing Monroe down, filled him with come and in his hand, Nick was already getting hard again. So was he. So was Monroe.

Pulling out felt like pulling nails but he managed, shifted back and nodded at Monroe.

“Your turn.”

They switched so that Renard had Nick’s sweet, warm mouth. Had those pouty lips wrapped around him, Nick’s eyes turned beseechingly up at him. He stroked his face with gentle hands.

“It’ll get worse before it gets better,” he warned Nick, uncertain if Nick could even understand him. “But we’ll try our best.”

His concentration was already clouding, those damn pheromones slowly winning out against his control. Monroe was rutting away at Nick, losing his own control in fits and bursts, before clamping down again. Renard watched approvingly; the wolf was lasting longer than expected.

He thought that by this time he’d be dealing with two animals, mad with lust.

Nick was taking him deep into his throat, like he was made for this, made for Renard and Monroe both and Renard groaned, sank his fingers into Nick's hair and held him there while he came. Nick came again, with Monroe's hand wrapped around him this time, with Monroe pressed deep inside him. It made Monroe come, made the wolf shine through, made the animal come to life.

Renard had been a fool. An overconfident fool. He hadn't thought that the snapping of the wolf's control would affect his own, hadn't taken into account of like calling to like. His own control broke, tenuous threads giving away before an avalanche of violent need. Fox and wolf left snarling at each other, lust and ferocity warring like beasts in the night.

They might have killed each other then, might have both gone for the throat to see who would win Nick, but the man himself stirred, still impaled on Monroe's cock. He struggled up, to his knees, Monroe slipping out of him, slick and wet sounding.

"Both of you," he slurred, one hand back on his too hard cock. He touched himself like he couldn't help it, like it hurt and felt good at the same time.

"Don't fight. Both of you." He repeated before slumping back over, curled over with his forehead touching the floor, hand still working himself. It was a beautiful sight, his want, his need, the curve of his spine. Beautiful and Renard wanted him so badly he could taste it, Nick's scent mingled with Monroe's. The wolf was moving over to him warily, head low in willing submission. Knowing his king once again, angry possessive lust cleared away just that little bit.

Renard grabbed his head, kissed him roughly, bit at his mouth to let him know he accepted Monroe's surrender, that he accepted _Monroe_. They kissed, tangled with one another and it was only when Nick whimpered again and the smell of his fresh come hit their noses that they pulled away from each other.

Nick was gazing up at them, mouth red and open, just begging to be defiled.

So Renard took him again.

After that, everything was a blur, sex and come and skin and sweat. He lost count of the times he took Nick, lost count of how often Monroe took Nick. He had vague memories of mounting Monroe, pushing into the other man while Nick panted and whimpered somewhere to the right of him. Monroe on his knees, just like he told him he would be, sucking Renard off. Renard returning the favor. Images of Nick splayed between the two of them, exhausted but still wanting. Still begging. Hours passed like that, filling the air with the heavy scent of sex.

Then the fog of lust began to recede and Renard became finally became aware again, a little bit at a time. Monroe on his back, Nick working frantically up and down on his cock. He was perfect like that, beautiful. He crawled over to them, grabbed Nick by the back of his head and pulled it back. It left his neck on display, lovely and vulnerable. He kissed Nick's neck, nipped at his skin.

“Ride him, Nick,” he purred in the other man’s ear. “Make him feel it.”

Nick and Monroe both moaned, Nick’s hips moving smoothly up and down and Renard knew what he wanted, even as a small distant part of him said it was a bad idea. The pheromones were still running through his system though, made it easy to ignore. He slid his hand from Nick’s hair, down his neck, down his spine. In the middle of his back, right where his shoulder blades met, Renard spread his palm, pressed gently down. Nick went easily, slumping all along Monroe’s chest, hips still rolling up and down.

Nick’s hole was spread wide by Monroe, pink and tempting at the edges and Renard pressed a finger to the skin there, couldn’t help it. Warm and so thin and vulnerable.

He picked up the lotion where it had been dropped long ago, poured what was left into his hand. Nick was already so slick, come dripping down his thighs. After being fucked so many times, he was loose enough to take Renard’s first finger easily, Renard sliding it along Monroe’s cock.

Monroe whined and Nick whimpered at the feel and Renard murmured to them both, the hand still on Nick's back pressing down. He worked his finger in deeper, added another, loosened already loose muscles, slicked already come-wet skin.

This was going to feel so good.

He moved in behind Nick, pressed his cock to his full hole. Lust was a lazy, somnolent, snake moving in his bloodstream now, made it so he could move slowly but interminably forward. Once the head was in, the rest came easily, Renard sliding in until his cock was snug inside Nick, snug against Monroe. All three of them groaned when he was finally fully in, Nick whimpering on Monroe's chest even as he rocked his hips near imperceptibly. Wanting this. Wanting them both.

Renard complied, pulling out slowly and then pushing back in. Monroe was pinned under Nick and Renard's combined weight so Renard was running this show, controlling the pace. Renard was in control, just like he should be. He picked the pace up slowly and steadily, sliding into Nick and along Monroe.

Nick came first, sobbing his orgasm into Monroe's skin, clamping down on them almost to the point of pain. Monroe was right on his heels, body shaking underneath Nick, snarl echoing in the warehouse. And the flood of warmth wetness set of Renard, made him jerk his hips as deep as he could go, made him add his own mark deep in Nick's body, to mingle with Monroe's.

He collapsed on top of Nick, the last of the pheromones insidious effects seeming to bleed out with his orgasm. He was sticky and sore and tired and he managed to pull out of Nick was gently as he could. He fell to the side of them to find that Nick was unconscious, passed out from sheer exhaustion. Monroe was still awake, looking as wrecked as Renard felt.

Between the two of them, they managed to maneuver Nick to the ground, curled him over their bodies as best they could. They’d rest for a while and then gather their clothes, they’d carry Nick to the car and take him home. Together, they’d clean him up, tend to him.

Together, they’d keep him safe.


End file.
